


Will You Love Me As I Live? (Cause I'll Love You Till I Die)

by Rainy182



Series: Song Based Fics [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), M/M, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Stiles Stilinski is Pushed Out of the Pack, True Mates, Vampire Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23386162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainy182/pseuds/Rainy182
Summary: Stiles never planned on being anything more special than the magic that Mother Moon gave him. But then he dies, breaking the mating bound between Peter and him. But then he comes back as a vampire leaving the two of them in limbo wondering what's next? Can they still be in love - and sane - or will the mistakes of other be more costly than anyone could have thought?
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Song Based Fics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/931110
Comments: 18
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I dont know why I keep "starting" new fics (on here) without finishing others. But this has been in the drafts since 2018 and I figured I could make it a two-shot just to finally place it in the "done" pile! Also this was based off the song "You Said You'd Grow Old With Me" by Micheal Schulte

Vampires weren’t supposed to be real. And although there are werewolves, witches, and windagos- vampires weren’t supposed to exist. That’s what Stiles was chanting over and over as he looked at his deathly pale skin and dark black eyes in the mirror. 

Peter always liked how my eyes glowed gold was the first thought Stiles had when he first saw the now onyx orbs. He hasn't left his house in six days since the vampire attack and he has no plans to leave tonight either, despite the fact that Scott has texted him fifty times and called him twice as much.  _ Serves him right;  _ he can’t help but bitterly think. 

Not that it’s Scott’s fault a vampire had taken residency in Beacon Hills, or that nobody knew to keep vervain on them, or even knew that vampires were real. No it’s not the true alpha’s fault or Derek for telling Stiles to  _ stay home where it’s safe _ . If anything it’s Denton’s fault, but even the good for nothing druid thought vamps were just a myth. 

Myths were always based in truth though. 

But it wasn’t anybody’s fault, but Stiles still found himself blaming the whole lot of them. He wanted to scream too, and break the walls in his room, and run until he couldn’t breath. But he can’t; because his dad is asleep, they can’t afford repairs, and he’s dead anyways so what’s the point? 

He should’ve accepted the bite from Peter, that’s the next clear thought that goes through his head. It’s light dumping ice cold water down his back on a hot day in July, and it has that subtle sting just the same. He should’ve said yes. He would’ve- at the time- hated Peter for it, probably would have mourned his humanity for the rest of his life, but he’d be alive. He would be breathing for necessity, not for the habit - not for the  _ novelty _ . 

He didn’t even notice that he had been scratching at his wrist in desperation the first night after his transformation until his Dad had gently pointed it out. The tone of his voice is the same you use with a wounded animal that is about to lose it. He didn’t even notice that his mating mark was gone until he finally cleaned his blood from his wrist in the harsh lights of his bathroom. It’s a wonder that only the mirror is cracked now. 

_ What will Peter do?  _ Is the next thought that creeps into Stiles mind as he looks into the cracked mirror. His mate-  _ are they still mates? _ \- is currently in Europe working on pack relations. Or at least that's what reasoning Scott gave to cover up his thinly veiled reason of punishing Peter. Pushing him because he and Stiles happened to be in love, and went against their alpha to solidify that love. 

_ What will Peter do?  _ The thought circles in his head over and over again. His fingers dig into his right wrist until they draw blood as he thinks. Finally he looks away from the mirror and makes his way back into his room, his phone finally stopped buzzing. 

Its silence is what prompts him to finally check it. When it was ringing, then later buzzing, Stiles could ignore the hollowness in his chest, ignore how the few ties he had were gone. Simply husks. Now he's forced to deal with the cold in the quiet of his room. 

The first hundred calls and two hundred texts are from Peter. Stiles can help but feel ashamed for how long it took him to decide whether to call Peter back. As if the turmoil that he was currently feeling was anything comparable to what his husband must be feeling if he tried to get in contact with him this desperately, especially since it was almost six in the morning in Romania. 

The phone only rings once before he could hear the line being picked up. “Stiles, please tell me that’s you calling me right now,” Peter’s voice sounding a wreck and tear filled. 

“Yeah softwolf, it’s me,” Stiles' voice was gentle and quiet. 

“Why didn’t you answer your phone,” Peter quickly demanded with worry, “The bonds -- I thought you were  _ dead _ -” 

“I am Peter,” the boy- forever one - found himself saying. Feeling as if the best way to do this, to end this, would be by ripping off the bandaid. 

“You’re what? No. No, you aren’t because we’re talking right now and-” 

“A vampire killed and turned me Peter,” his words plowing over Peter’s on the phone, “As a way to send a message to the Beacon Hills pack I think. Or maybe this time it truly was just a “wrong place wrong time” sort of thing?” 

There was silence on the line for what felt like forever. It wasn’t forever though, it was only a small drop in the bucket of forever that will be greeting Stiles, but in this moment it felt like it. He could still hear some noise though, beyond the lack of words, he could hear breathing - ragged and heavy - and the sound of his father downstairs rolling over in his bed. It grates on his nerves in a way that isn’t purely from the noise. 

“Peter?” 

“I...I need to call you back,” the older wolf finally said, “I need to get back to Beacon Hills, but first I need to think.” 

“Oh..” he wonders if the dejected tone of his voice carries over five thosuand miles. 

“I  _ love you _ Stiles, always,” Peter stressed suddenly, “But I need to- This is just- You  _ died _ . I need to think.” 

“Of course,” he replied quietly before hanging up the phone quickly. Tossing the phone back on the bed he turns back to the mirror that hung isolated on the wall. His eyes looked empty to him still; cold and abyss-like. He tilts his head slightly and lets the light catch his now translucent skin causing his stomach to turn in hatred prompting him to divert his eyes to his hands. Away from the reflection, away from the truth. 

He died. Gone. Now frozen in time forever to never grow old or die in peace. Forever damned. 

He’d like to lie and say he felt the pain when his fist shattered the mirror, but like his breathing, it was only a phantom of muscle memory going into work.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah sorry for going MIA for almost five month. I basically hit a writing wall, moved cross country, and am depressed (the usual). So no promises on future writing, but I hope this chapter is nice enough:)

Stiles and his dad didn’t speak about the broken mirror or the fact that Stiles was just wearing bandages around his knuckles for show. They didn’t talk about how he stayed in his room for longer and longer periods of time, avoiding his own house like the plague, and that John was picking up more night shifts. It became a routine for them that neither knew how to or wanted to break. 

Stiles would like to think the growing distance between himself and his father helps with the fact that it’s been two months and Peter still hasn't come back to Beacon Hills. But if anything it only makes it more obvious and makes the sting of depression rise above the muted emotions that now possess him. Not that he expected anything different, he hoped of course, but he finds himself struggling to find disappointment fill him. 

That’s probably why he was surprised to see Derek knocking at his window eight weeks into his transition. 

“Are you going to let me in?” His voice gruff as he points to the mountain ash that lines the bedroom window. When Stiles realized two weeks ago he could still touch mountain ash he made a barrier as quick as possible to avoid the pack -- not that any showed until now. 

He turns from facing his bedroom door to look at the window, and by extension Derek, only for his eyes to drift to the moon behind him. Lately he’s been finding the moon more and more calming in a way that feels more natural than anything else. He wonders if it has anything to do with his aversion to the sun now, longing to be far away from here, or because of what the moon used to represent to him. 

“I’ll take that as no,” Derek said suddenly, reminding that Stiles that company was present, “Stiles everyone is worried about you-” 

The vampire quickly swings his eyes to the beta, his eyes sharp and with a slight glow, “No they aren’t.” He pauses a moment to take a breath - a soul shattering habit that he still can’t kick - before he cuts off Derek again.

“I’ve been here, right here, for eight weeks and you are the first person to check in on me. The first person I’ve spoken to and seen in seven weeks. Nobody is worried for me, maybe about me, but not for.” 

“That’s not true,” Derek’s voice was filled with doubt but he pressed on, “I’m sure Peter has been-” 

Stiles was in front of the window in less than a second, his hands gripped the ledge and he could hear the wood creaking beneath them as he leaned in closer to Derek’s face. He’s sure his fangs were more present as he could smell the fear that the beta held and his view of the world took on a hazy glow. 

“Peter isn’t here,” his voice hissed out, his anger and sadness finally bubbling to the surface in full, “Peter isn’t here because his mate is dead. I’m dead. And Scott is the one who killed me.” 

Stiles isn’t sure how Derek would have responded to that statement, because when the wolf opened his mouth Stiles broke the mountain ash line. Letting his open palm push the man off of the tree branch, causing the branch to softly sway as the sound of Derek landing on the ground filled the air. 

He stepped back and closed the window fully and placed a new line of mountain ash along the window seal. The moonlight shone directly into his room illuminating the space. After a moment he sighed and turned back towards his bed to lay down for another few hours, or days, or until he felt like leaving again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I wrote Umbrella Academy fanfiction would ya'll read?

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think and I can't wait to upload part two!


End file.
